


The Hunters are Hunted

by sparxwrites



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Hurt Castiel, Purgatory, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-15
Updated: 2012-07-15
Packaged: 2017-11-10 01:01:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/460494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparxwrites/pseuds/sparxwrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The monsters in Purgatory aren't the only thing trying to kill them, and Castiel is more of a liability than Dean had expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Hunters are Hunted

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Hunters Are Hunted](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/9885) by Hollyoakhill. 



There's no warning.

One minute everything's quiet - or as quiet as it ever gets in Purgatory, the low background growl still throbbing in their ears. But nothing's moving, no glowing red eyes, the trail is clear-

And then there's a noise from behind him, a snap and something like a breathless inhalation, and that's all it takes to make him whirl around. Over a month of being on edge has honed his reflexes into a trigger-hair switch, and he swipes at the darkness with his torch.

It takes a low, animal whimper to make him look down.

Cas is sprawled out on the ground, eyes wide and terrified and face unnaturally pale, one leg stretched out into the darkness behind him. A flash of the torch shows blood and glinting metal and serrated teeth and- oh fuck.  _Fuck_.

"Dean," manages Cas, the word clawing its way out of his throat past the frantic, shallow breaths. "Dean,  _Dean_ , my leg,  _Dean_ -" He's shivering; shock or cold of blood loss, Dean doesn't know and doesn't care. All he can think about is the way the metal looks embedded in Cas's flesh - and how the blood must smell to anything hunting them.

He drops to his knees in front of Cas, and the angel grabs at him, fingers twisting into his jacket. There's blood spreading around the metal, soaking into the white hospital pants, climbing the fabric steadily, and his voice is rising into something that's fast becoming shocked hysteria

"Dean, my leg, my  _leg_ , it- it hurts,  _Dean_ -" and he breaks off with another surprised whimper, a low, broken sound of pain that's not even human as he pulls Dean closer. His knuckles are white against the leather, eyes wide and pupils blown with pain. " _Dean_. Get it off, get it off, getitoffgetitoffoffoff-"

And there's suddenly red eyes glowing around them, and there's a panicking angel clinging to him, and the forest is suddenly alive with low snarls and sobbed breaths; and all Dean can see is the blood and the metal and  _teeth-_


End file.
